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Christ the good Physician

Hymnal: The Hartford Selection of Hymns #XLIV (1802) First Line: How lost was my condition Lyrics: 1 How lost was my condition, Till Jesus made me whole! There is but one physician Can cure a sin-sick soul! Next door to death he found me, And snatch'd me from the grave; To tell to all around me, His wond'rous pow'r to save. 2 The worst of all diseases Is light, compar'd with sin; On ev'ry part it seizes, But rages most within: 'Tis palsy, plague, and fever, And madness--all combin'd; And none but a believer, The least relief can find. 3 From men great skill professing, I thought a cure to gain; But this prov'd more distressing, And added to my pain: Some said that nothing ail'd me, Some gave me up for lost, Thus ev'ry refuge fail'd me, And all my hopes were cross'd. 4 At length this great Physician, How matchless is his grace! Accepted my petition, And undertook my case; First gave me sight to view him, For sin my eyes had seal'd; Then bid me look unto him; I look'd, and I was heal'd. 5 A dying, risen JESUS, Seen by the eye of faith; From every danger frees us, And saves the soul from death: Come then to this Physician, His help he'll freely give; He makes no hard condition, 'Tis only--look, and live. Topics: Christ Looking to him; Christ The good pysician; God Reasoning with men; Christ Looking to him; Christ The good pysician; God Reasoning with men Languages: English

The good Physician

Hymnal: Society hymns, original and selected on evangelical and experimental subjects #XL (1790) First Line: How lost was my condition Lyrics: 1 How lost was my condition, Till Jesus made me whole! There is but one Physician Can cure a sin-sick soul! At death's dark door he found me, And snatch'd me from the grave, To tell to all around me, His wondrous power to save. 2 The worst of all diseases Is light, compar'd with sin; On ev'ry part it seizes, But rages most within. 'Tis palsy, plague, and fever, And madness, all combin'd; And none but a believer The least relief can find. 3 From men great skill professing, I thought a cure to gain; But this prov'd more distressing, And added to my pain. Some said that nothing ail'd me, Some gave me up for lost; Thus ev'ry refuge fail'd me, And all my hopes were cross'd. 4 At length this great Physician, (How matchless is his grace!) Accepted my petition, And undertook my case: First gave me sight to view him, For sin my eyes had seal'd; Then bid me look unto him; I look'd, and I was heal'd. 5 A dying, risen Jesus, Seen by the eye of faith; From every danger frees us, And saves the soul from death. Come then to this Physician, His help he'll freely give; He makes no hard condition, 'Tis only look, and live. Languages: English